A Night in the Life of Viewfinder
by appleslovetea
Summary: COMPLETE - Akihito/Asami one-shot.


It was the sound of rain that woke him up. He could hear it mercilessly beating against the bedroom windows, but still he refused to open his eyes.

He couldn't open them actually, not even if he wanted to. The massive migraine weighing down on his head wouldn't let him after all.

Momentarily deprived of his vision, Akihito nevertheless tried to prop himself up in bed by his elbows, but as much as he tried to, he couldn't manage to succeed. His arms also seemed to be refusing to obey his commands; the slightest muscle movement making the nerve endings under his skin shoot in pain.

A moan ended up escaping his lips, sounding to him as sore as his throat felt.

In truth, he felt like total crap overall.

No one needed to tell him what was wrong with him though. Luckily his migraine hadn't turn his brain into mush (...just yet), and he was quickly able to attribute a cause to his symptoms.

As the first thunder echoed through the night skies outside, his head pounding in unison, Akihito cursed all flu viruses known to man...closely followed by his own idiocy.

After all, only an idiot would have gone out on an undercover job in the middle of the coldest week of the year wearing khakis and a t-shirt, would have gotten himself soaked to the bones due to multiple rain showers, and let his clothes dry cold against his skin, all for the sake of a news' scoop.

"Stupid, stupid Akihito! I hope at least those pictures turn out ok." He thought, as he heard himself let out another whimpering moan.

It took Akihito all of his willpower to be able to turn to his side in bed; his back muscles aching for a more comfortable position. He could already feel his body temperature rising, and deep in his mind the words "painkiller meds" were beginning to gain a very inviting ring to them.

Too bad his body didn't care to obey him anymore. Forget about reaching the medicine cabinet in such a state.

He was in fact debating with himself how long he'd be able to last in his current vegetative state, when his nose picked up a familiar scent, though he had trouble pinpointing its origin.

It somehow smelled of fancy cologne; the kind you'd spend a ridiculous amount of money on. A mix of bergamot, musk and spices that ended up having an oddly soothing effect on him nevertheless.

Glad that at least his sense of smell was still resisting the virus, Akihito shuffled closer to it, desperately trying to open his eyelids.

Before he could manage the feat though, his forehead hit a wall... at least it hurt him as if he'd hit one, though seconds later he felt the "wall" move against him, making the bergamot scent suddenly overflow around him.

"What's wrong?" He heard a sleepy, yet deep voice ask. That's when Akihito realised that he hadn't actually hit a wall, but someone's back instead. And not just anyone's back...

"Huh, what are you doing in my bedroom, Asami? Go sleep on your own bed, will you?" He said hoarsely; his eyes still closed.

"..._Your_ bedroom?" The other man retorted, sounding more awake now. "You are the one who crawled into my bed in the middle of the night. You are in _my_ bedroom, Takaba."

"Wha...?" Akihito moaned in reply, peeking at his surroundings through half-opened lids.

His disoriented look made Asami frown. "Are you feeling alright?" He asked.

Akihito could only shake his head in response, wincing in pain. "Head hurts... Flu, I think..." He still managed to mutter, as he felt a hand go down on his forehead, enjoying the momentary coolness it brought him.

"You're burning up." Asami stated with what sounded like an accusing tone.

"Thank you, but I'd already figured that out myself."

The other man exhaled loudly, as he was known to right before he used to start scolding Akihito for acting like a child.

Oh, Akihito could just envision it. In a few seconds the usual sermon would start all over again. He would be accused of being an irresponsible brat, with no speck of logical reasoning whatsoever in him, who did nothing but get himself in trouble. Who else would have gone out in the middle of winter dressed as if summer was just around the corner, after all?...

Akihito found himself wondering if focusing his entire attention on his migraine would help shut out the outside world's noises for a bit (Asami included). He was really in no mood to be scolded...

He waited nevertheless for it to begin, knowing even with his eyes closed that Asami was propped up on his elbows beside him, looking intently at his increasingly sick face,... but a couple of minutes went by without anything happening.

He chanced opening his eyes once again just in time to see Asami getting out of bed, grabing the robe that had been previously discarded on the floor, and disappearing outside the bedroom's door.

"Probably went to sleep in the guest room, afraid to catch the virus from me. Stupid Asami! At least now I can feel sick in peace." Akihito thought, rolling over to Asami's side of the bed, where his scent still lingered.

He tried to drift off to sleep but loud noises kept reaching him from outside the room. "Maybe he's making himself a midnight snack." He thought, though Asami's midnight snacks usually translated into some sort of alcoholic beverage. He was no cook after all!

Akihito was already half-unconscious when he felt the mattress give into someone else's weight by his side. He tried to fight back the sleep waves threatening to drown him in, as he felt Asami's hand over his forehead feeling his temperature again, before travelling upwards to ruffle his hair.

"Hey Takaba, wake up. You need to take some medicine... You can't fall asleep with a fever." He said, with a surprisingly soothing voice.

"Huh?" Akihito moaned, wondering for a moment if the migraine was making him allucinate. Was this the Asami that was supposed to be scolding the hell out of him?

He figured his bewildered look amused Asami, because the older man suddenly chuckled under his breath.

He picked up a glass filled with water and an orange pill from the nightstand that Akihito hadn't even noticed up to that point, and handed them to him.

"Drink up. It's flu medicine. Oh, and I called the clinic. They'll be sending a doctor on house call duty in half an hour, so change into these clothes. The ones you have on right now are soaked in sweat." Asami said, placing down a folded t-shirt and shorts on top of the sheets next to the younger man. So the noises Akihito had heard earlier were due to Asami rummaging through the drawers in his bedroom.

The thought unexpectedly made Akihito blush. "T-Thanks." He said, as he slowly sat upright in bed, grabbing the pill and water glass, all the while feeling Asami's gaze on him.

He figured he winced again as he swallowed the pill because Asami frowned. "What's wrong?" He asked immediately, his gaze intense.

"N-Nothing. My throat is just sore, that's all. It's hard to swallow." The younger man answered defensively, quickly turning his attention to the clean clothes beside him, as if glad to have an excuse to look away from Asami. Sometimes he didn't understand Asami's temper at all.

Most days he acted as if he was pretty indifferent to Akihito's presence in his house. He left early in the morning for work, came back late at night, had a shower, ate the dinner Akihito had prepared for him, worked in his home office some more and went to bed. There were days in a row in which they barely saw each other, except to maybe...have sex, but truth be told, Akihito felt there was nothing but a physical connection to him on Asami's part. He'd never really acted as a lover towards him after all.

Pushing aside these gloomy thoughts, Akihito tried to remove his sweat drenched t-shirt by himself, already feeling it cling to the skin on his back, but his sore arms weren't cooperating. He was about to curse out loud when Asami came to his aid, easily pulling the t-shirt over his head. Asami's hand then travelled lower, reaching the waistband of Akihito's pajama pants, seemingly intent on aiding him out of them as well, but Akihito quickly stopped him, placing his own hand on top of his.

"I... I can do it myself... Thanks." He said quietly, blushing again despite himself.

Asami didn't seem convinced though. "Are you sure?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "You look like you can hardly move."

"I'm fine...Why are you doing this?" Akihito finally asked, unable to stop himself.

"Doing what?"

"This..." Akihito pointed to the clean clothes and the medicine bottle on the nightstand. "...Taking care of me. ..I thought you would be scolding the hell out of me by now. I have no one but myself to blame for getting sick."

'Surprise' would not be a word one would normally associate with the black market leader Asami Ryuuichi, but if anyone would have asked Akihito to describe the look on Asami's face as he heard his last words, 'surprise' would definitely be it.

The older man stayed silent for a few moments, seeming to be pondering on the answer, but he soon regained his usual confident expression.

He shook his head, as if to dispel the younger man's question.

"Just go to sleep for a while." He said, with his trademark grin. "I'll wake you up when the doctor gets here." He added, turning towards the door. "Oh, but don't get me wrong. I do intend to scold you properly when you get better. It just woudn't be fun doing it now, while you are not well enough to fight back." He finished, glancing back at Akihito with an evil glint on his eyes.

"I knew it... Stupid Asami!" Akihito cursed under his breath, falling back on top of the pillows. As he finally let sleep claim him back though, he unconsciously hugged Asami's pillow tighter against himself.

* * *

Later that night, after the doctor had left and Akihito had settled back into sleep in his own bedroom, Asami went to check on him, quietly sitting down on the mattress beside him.

He stayed motionless for a few moments, watching Akihito mumble in his sleep, until he reached out a hand to the younger man, gently ruffling his hair.

"It's because I'm in love with you, you brat, that's why..."

His confession, however, went unheard.

* * *

The End


End file.
